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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26057179">Oikea Tapa | The Right Way</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThoseDaysThatWill/pseuds/ThoseDaysThatWill'>ThoseDaysThatWill</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Organizations [11]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Men's Hockey RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Organized Crime, Implied/Referenced Underage Prostitution, M/M, POV Alternating, nothing graphic, the only violence is with nerf balls</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 10:53:56</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,832</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26057179</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThoseDaysThatWill/pseuds/ThoseDaysThatWill</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>"I am not sending you to Winnipeg to fuck Blake Wheeler. Am I making myself perfectly clear?" [ . . . ]</i>
</p><p>
  <i>"Clear as crystal, boss." Patrik leaned back in his chair, but resisted the urge to put his feet up on Mikko's desk. "I'm going there to help Wheeler get the city back in order, run it the right way, and make sure he pays us what he's supposed to be paying us. That's it. No fucking anyone."</i>
</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Ben Chiarot/Sami Niku, Mikko Koivu/Kari Lehtonen, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Patrik Laine &amp; Jesse Puljujarvi, Patrik Laine/Blake Wheeler, past Blake Wheeler/David Krejci</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Organizations [11]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1452790</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Oikea Tapa | The Right Way</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This follows after <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/20293906">Viettely / Forførelse</a> and <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/20308084">Huijari</a>.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"I am <em>not</em> sending you to Winnipeg to fuck Blake Wheeler. Am I making myself perfectly clear?"</p><p>Patrik sighed. Mikko was sitting behind his desk in his official office, using his official voice. This was one of those times that Patrik was supposed to think of him as his Capo and his <em>boss</em>, and not as a guy that he was paid to do a threesome with more than once back at the brothel. It wasn't that Patrik couldn't switch gears and be serious when Mikko needed him to be, he could when he wanted to. It was just that he didn't want to. He didn't want the whole assignment at all. And Mikko knew that. Which is why he was using his official voice and had called him into his official office <em>alone</em>.</p><p>After everything went down in Denmark, Patrik had been benched. No <em>good </em>assignments, just doing collections and threats to a bunch of nobodies that practically shit themselves when he stepped into whatever bar or club they were hiding in. And every penny of his cut of anything he collected went directly into the Organization's coffers, until he paid back what had been given to the Danes for his and Jesse's release. (Mikko decided that nothing that happened was Jesse's fault and he hadn't been punished, which Patrik was glad for.) The jobs were boring and frustrating as all hell, which is what it was<em> supposed </em>to be, Mikko often reminded him. He had done something stupid and failed, and he had to pay the price for that. If Nikolaj had called the Koivus, Patrik would probably be dead. Saku never paid ransoms, and he didn't really care about Mikko's crew, they were just employees, names he barely knew. Patrik knew how lucky he was, so he tried not to complain too much.</p><p>"Clear as crystal, boss." Patrik leaned back in his chair, but resisted the urge to put his feet up on Mikko's desk. "I'm going there to help Wheeler get the city back in order, run it the right way, and make sure he pays us what he's supposed to be paying us. That's it. No fucking anyone."</p><p>Mikko sighed, "I didn't say <em>that</em>. Just don't fuck Wheeler. We already have him working for us, you don't need to seduce him or anything like that." He sighed again, "I just don't want you to think <em>that's </em>why I'm sending you. I know you and Roope think I give you assignments when I want you to bed someone, and that's not true."</p><p>"You're sending me because I'm in trouble and no one else wants to go to fucking backass Canada besides Sami." Patrik pointed out. He would have rather taken Jesse with him, but he'd been on the shelf since they got back from Denmark, broken ribs, concussion, and they'd all been Patrik's fault. Of course Jesse had forgiven him, that was his way, but Patrik still felt guilty. "And I can't say no to any assignment you give me from now until I pay back everything."</p><p>Mikko nodded, "Exactly. You leave in two days. I already booked your tickets. Pack well, I don't know how long you're going to be there and I hear the winters are <em>really </em>cold, even by our standards.."</p><p>Patrik sighed heavily but nodded, "Aye aye, boss."</p><p>. . . .</p><p>Blake had been offered the position of city boss of Winnipeg three separate times.</p><p>The first time was when Andrew's bodyguard called him just after everything went down. He said he didn't know who to call and since Blake was as close to a capo as the city had, in his opinion, he picked him. (Blake wasn't sure how 'runs a successful con' made him a capo to him, but he didn't question.) He hadn't said specifically what happened, just that they needed someone to step up to keep the city going. Blake had been in Colorado at the time, and told him he wasn't going back to Winnipeg any time soon and he wasn't about to step into Andrew's shoes. He suggested he call Mark Stuart, but the guy said asking <em>one </em>American was bad enough, he wasn't going to another one. Blake wished him luck and hung up.</p><p>The second time was after Ben got himself caught up with the Finns. Blake hadn't been involved with that whole thing except for conning the young guy at the bar. Somehow that all resulted in the Finns taking over the city and deciding that his crew would have to pay <em>the Finns </em>to keep their rackets running smoothly. They probably could have fought them, but since no one had stepped up to fill Andrew's spot, the Finns weren't exactly unwelcome, but the whole thing was messy and unorganized. The Finnish guy that was supposed to be now running Winnipeg was in Denver for a while, where Blake had met him, and then went back to Finland, but he never stepped foot in Winnipeg himself. So someone had to be the boss in the city, even if the Finns were pulling the strings. Ben and his new boyfriend had asked him if he'd do it. He told them the same thing he told Andrew's bodyguard: No thank you and good luck. </p><p>The third time was a few weeks later. They had just arrived back in Winnipeg, and Blake had gone back to work in one of the bars that Andrew had owned. He wasn't sure who owned them now, and since the loudest rumors were that he was still alive and in Chicago, no one could really step up and take them over. At least not yet. So Blake went to work and ran the cons with Ben and made a few bucks and called it a night. He had bought himself a nice two bedroom house just outside the city because apartment living really didn't suit him and neither did living too close to where he worked. He didn't notice anything unusual as he walked into his living room that day, until he flipped the lights on.</p><p>There was a man sitting on his couch.</p><p>Blake drew his gun and pointed it at him, but the man didn't so much as twitch. Blake had started carrying the gun after everything happened with Andrew but he hadn't had cause to use it. Cons and firearms didn't usually mix, so he hadn't carried since he left Czechia. All the same, he <em>did </em>know how to use it and held it steadily pointed at the man, "What the fuck are you doing in my house?"</p><p>The man sighed and slowly held his hands up, "I am just here to talk to you." He said, through a heavy Finnish accent.</p><p>Blake sighed, of course he was Finnish. Who else would it be? "What do you want?" He didn't lower his gun.</p><p>"To <em>talk</em>. Please, Mr. Wheeler, can we have a civilized conversation?" He asked, struggling a bit with the longer words.</p><p>Blake shook his head, "I'd rather not. Who are you?"</p><p>"I would offer to shake your hand, but you don't seem to be in the mood for it. I am Mikko Koivu. I've heard a lot about you from some of my associates." He never took his eyes off Blake, but his tone was light and friendly, as if he was having a chat with an old friend.</p><p>Blake scoffed, "Yeah? What'd you hear?" He tried to remember if he'd heard the name before, but he didn't think he had. The Finnish guy that had taken the city had been named Mikko, but this wasn't him. Blake had only talked to him briefly, but he was sure of that. This guy was older, even blonder, and seemed a little unhinged. Blake didn't lower his gun.</p><p>Mikko let his hands fall into his lap, but didn't seem to be making a move for a weapon of his own, "I heard that you have resisted leading this city. I believe one of my capos was nice enough to extend the offer to you and... you <em>refused? </em>I don't know how you usually do things in Canada, Mr. Wheeler, but in Finland, that's considered very rude. I don't think you are a rude man, are you?"</p><p>"Not usually." He replied, honestly enough.</p><p>"I didn't think so. Which means maybe you <em>misunderstood </em>Rantanen's offer. So I'm here to.... clear up any <em>misunderstandings</em>, so we're all on the same page here in Winnipeg. So please, sit, put the gun away, let's <em>talk</em>." His tone suggested that it very much wasn't a suggestion.</p><p>The hairs on the back of Blake's neck stood up. It dawned on him that Mikko wasn't looking at him anymore, but slightly over his shoulder. He kept the gun trained on him, but turned his head just enough to discover that it wasn't his imagination or paranoia, that there was someone behind him and it was reasonable to assume that said person probably had a gun of his own trained on him. He sighed, looking back at Mikko, "A talk sounds <em>great</em>." He re-holstered hs gun and sat in the chair opposite the couch.</p><p>Mikko laughed slightly, "You are a reasonable man, that's good. Reasonable men live long happy lives." He gestured to the other person, "Come join us."</p><p>Blake watched him walk into his line of sight and was surprised by what he saw. He was taller than Mikko, but not by much, and Blake judged them both to be shorter and lighter than himself, though both carried themselves as if they were used to winning every fight they got into. But that wasn't what stood out about this man. His hair was a very fair shade of blonde, but there seemed to be a blue hue to it, almost as if it was frosted. It complimented his eyes, but it was strange. Mikko held his hand out to him, and the man took it, settling in beside him on the couch.</p><p>"My husband, Kari." Mikko gestured to him, and then to Blake, "This is Blake, he's going to run this city for us."</p><p>He started to speak, but Kari turned his attention on him and Blake froze. He couldn't pinpoint it, but there was something in his look, in his eyes that seemed to be multiple shades of blue all at once. There was something that said this man <em>enjoyed </em>killing. That he not only <em>had</em> and <em>would</em> kill, but he would draw it out as long as possible and <em>revel</em> in it. Blake wasn't sure how he knew it from just that look, but he <em>did</em> know it. And he also knew that silence was the very best way he could ensure his own ability to breathe for at least another hour. He closed his mouth.</p><p>Kari's voice was quiet, "Mikko was afraid that you wouldn't agree. I'm glad to hear that you have."</p><p>Blake nodded, "Yeah, me too."</p><p>Many strange things happened to Blake in quick succession after that meeting. He found himself the owner and manager of a whole series of establishments across the city, none of which opened their doors before 8pm and all of which had back rooms and side rooms and basements that needed special clearance or a good amount of money to access. He also found himself in possession of several bank accounts, some in his name and some in aliases that he'd used over the years, that amounted to much more than he expected to have access to, though not all of it was directly his, but to be used to "take care of the city". (Those were Mikko's words, and he didn't want to know what he meant, so he didn't ask. He assumed he'd figure it out as he went on.) He was also given a very ostentatious house (which he sold), a small fleet of cars (one of which was bulletproof), and a nice arsenal of weapons (which could come in handy).</p><p>Clearly they knew full well that Andrew was <em>not</em> going to return.</p><p>Blake had picked the bar that he had once worked at as the place he wanted to have his 'office'. (Mikko told him he had to have one.) It wasn't where Andrew had his, that was in a much nicer bar, but that place wasn't Blake style. He didn't realize how many people would be in and out of the office in any given night, or he might have picked a better place, but he was comfortable there, so he stuck with it. He had bought a large mahogany desk, which seemed appropriate, and a series of leather chairs and couches that dotted the room. A large gentlemen in a black suit stood outside his door, which he usually kept closed. He had joined Blake's organization when Calgary signed on with Edmonton. He didn't approve of the merger and had shopped his services. He made a very good bodyguard and Blake paid him well for the service. That was something else he'd learned from Andrew.</p><p>He stepped inside the office, "Boss, there are two... <em>Finnish </em>gentlemen here to see you." It seemed to strain him to call them 'gentlemen'. "Should I let them in?"</p><p>Blake smiled at his efforts, "I applaud your restraint, Adam. Did they give you names?"</p><p>He shook his head, "The one that did the talking was bothered I wouldn't let him in. He is <em>not</em> Mr. Koivu."</p><p>Blake sighed, "Let them in."</p><p>"Should I disarm them?" He asked.</p><p>Blake gave a short laugh, "If they'll let you, sure." He leaned forward and pushed Ben's feet off his desk, "At least make it <em>look </em>like I run a tight ship, would you?"</p><p>Ben scoffed, but sat up straighter, "Yes, <em>sir</em>."</p><p>Blake rolled his eyes, "Remind me to maim you later."</p><p>"That would not be very nice." The voice, Finnish accent and all, wasn't familiar to Blake, but judging by the way Ben turned around so fast he nearly fell out of his chair, he could guess who it belonged to. "Maiming is not a nice way to run a city." Sami shook his head with a little grin.</p><p>Ben met him in the middle of the office and without a word, buried his hands in his hair and pulled him in for a kiss. Sami wrapped his arms around Ben's waist, eagerly kissing him back. Blake could excuse the display, Ben had talked about him nearly constantly and they hadn't seen each other in a while. The few times a year he saw David came to mind, but he neatly tucked them back in the box they belonged in. He had to admit Ben and Sami did make a pretty pair, and it was good for the information pipeline to have someone who worked for him so wrapped up in someone that worked for his new boss. Ben pulled Sami down into his lap on the couch and Blake tactfully looked away.</p><p>A groan came from the doorway, as the other Finn stepped into the room and up to Blake's desk, holding his hand out. Blake stood to shake it. "I'm Patrik Laine, I'm here to help you."</p><p>"Nice to meet you. Sit?" Blake gestured to the chair Ben had vacated, and Patrik took it.</p><p>"My capo sent me here to be the liaison between you and him. He evidently sent Sami here to get laid." His English was surprisingly good, with only the faintest hint of an accent.</p><p>Blake chuckled, "And I appreciate it. My friend needs it badly." He caught Ben flipping him off, but he ignored it.</p><p>Patrik rolled his eyes, "So, I hear you've had some... introductions to the way we do things from Mikko Koivu?"</p><p>Blake tried not to laugh at that, "You could say that."</p><p>Patrik smirked, "Did you shit yourself?"</p><p>Blake snorted, "No, thankfully, I did not."</p><p>"He must have been impressed. Most people usually do."</p><p>"Did you?" Blake raised an eyebrow.</p><p>Patrik laughed without any humor, "No, but by the time I met him... I had seen... a lot."</p><p>"How old are you?"</p><p>Patrik sighed, "I figured that would come up sooner or later. I have been a member of the Finnish Organization for eight years."</p><p>"Eight years? You can't be more than twenty." Blake shook his head, "You want to tell me you joined when you were twelve?"</p><p>"Thirteen. I'm twenty-one." Patrik replied, monotone, as if he didn't care whether Blake believed him or not.</p><p>He leaned back in his chair, "That's young."</p><p>"How old are you?" Patrik countered.</p><p>"Thirty-three, as of two weeks ago." Blake answered, honestly. "Why would the Finnish Organization <em>want </em>a thirteen year old kid working for them?"</p><p>Patrik looked at him, as if he was waiting for the laugh, like that had been a joke and he was all ready not to be amused. But Blake just watched him, serious. Patrik sighed again, "Have you ever <em>been </em>to Europe?"</p><p>Blake tried to keep his eyes unrolled and his expression neutral, "Once or twice." Mikko hadn't brought up David, though Blake was sure he had to know about his connection. It had been years, but he was pretty sure Mikko had been around back then. He couldn't remember all of the meetings he sat in on, but he was sure at least some of them had to be with Finland. They must have been. By the time Blake had to leave, David was almost completely running Moravia and Blake was as high ranked in the Czech Organization as he could be (considering he was American-born). But no one had even implied they knew about him, and Blake sure as hell wasn't going to bring it up.</p><p>Patrik sighed, as if he suddenly realized he was talking to a child, "The Trade is very popular in Europe. The younger you are, the higher your value is. I started a lot younger than thirteen. But that's when I was made, so that's when I start counting from." He held his head up and almost defied Blake to say something disparaging about it, but he didn't. He knew better. "So yeah, I've been in since I was thirteen, but even then, I wasn't new."</p><p>Blake nodded. It would only be in his best interests to listen to him. There was no reason to antagonize someone that had done as much as this kid clearly had. Blake knew that allies came in every shape and size and they all had their values. "I get it."</p><p>Patrik nodded, "Good." He leaned back in his chair, "Might as well start there. Do you work the Trade around here?"</p><p>Blake didn't answer right away. He knew what the word meant in Europe, but he had to be careful not to play too much of his hand right away. "Do you mean prostitution?"</p><p>Patrik gave him half of a grin, "We're not going to get <em>anywhere </em>if you lie to me."</p><p>Blake raised an eyebrow, "What have I lied about?"</p><p>"I was a hooker for a <em>long </em>time, I know how to read a client. I know when people are lying. And you are lying to me. So you can start by telling me the truth, or I can go back to Turku and let my boss know this isn't going to work out. I'm sure he can find a <em>replacement</em>." Patrik's tone stayed casual and collected, he didn't need to raise his voice, the threat was more than evident. It wasn't him that would be replaced, it would be Blake, and probably violently.</p><p>Blake sighed, "You're probably going to find out about him anyway, I might as well tell you. David Krejči is my husband."</p><p>Patrik let out a sharp sound that might have been a laugh, but had no humor in it whatsoever, "You're shitting me."</p><p>Blake shook his head, "We're separated."</p><p>"Does he know about <em>this?" </em>He gestured around the office. His voice had risen about an octave, he clearly knew exactly who and what David was.</p><p>"Not yet." Which was the truth. Blake wasn't sure if he was planning to tell him or not, but he hadn't done it yet. He had talked to David since he accepted his 'promotion', but somehow the topic never came up. He remembered how David would talk about the Finns. He had said repeatedly that they were no threat to him or Czechia at all, that they would probably be taken over someday probably by Russia. That was one thing that the Czechs and Finns did agree on, they both despised the Russians. As far as Blake could tell, <em>all </em>the organizations despised the Russians. Or feared them. Or both.</p><p>Patrik ran a hand through his hair, taking in a deep breath, "Do you <em>plan </em>to tell him?"</p><p>Blake shrugged, "I haven't decided yet."</p><p>"Right." Patrik took his phone from his pocket and began typing rapidly. "Did you have rank with the Czechs?"</p><p>Blake nodded, "Until I left, yes."</p><p>Patrik glanced up at him, "How much?"</p><p>Blake gave him a wry grin, "David is the highest authority in Moravia, what do you think?"</p><p>Patrik rolled his eyes, "Do you <em>still?"</em></p><p>He didn't answer right away. That was a complicated question. Technically, he was still married to David. Technically, he still had all of his rank and privileges that came with everything he had done for them, but since everything happened, and he had to leave, he didn't know how much of that he actually kept and how much was left behind in Czechia. He and David never talked about it, but Blake was well aware that he couldn't go back. "I don't know." He answered, honestly.</p><p>"Great." Patrik was still staring intently at his phone. "Anything else?"</p><p>Blake scoffed, "Nothing like that."<span class="u"></span></p><p>Patrik stood up, "Look, don't do anything. I'm going to call my boss." He started to turn to the door and then looked back at him, "You didn't think this was something you should have mentioned to Koivu?"</p><p>Blake shrugged, "You think he doesn't know?"</p><p>"Right." He walked out, closing the door behind him.</p><p>. . . .</p><p>Patrik gave the guard at the door a polite nod when he handed his gun back to him. He hadn't been surprised that he was asked to disarm and it didn't bother him to comply. He knew Jesse would have had a fit over that, but he needed to have a working relationship with the guy and that meant some modicum of trust. He wasn't much of 'gun' guy anyway, his words were more of a weapon to him, along with his sexuality in many cases. And he still had his switchblade, just in case. But he knew he wasn't in danger in that office. The rest of the city, he couldn't be so sure. Especially now with this new angle. </p><p>"That's fucking <em>insane</em>." That was how Mikko answered the phone and Patrik couldn't help but laugh.</p><p>"Yeah, it is. Why the hell would Koivu pick someone with <em>those </em>connections to run what's supposed to be a <em>Finnish</em> city? We have no way of knowing where the hell Wheeler's loyalties are." Patrik stepped into the alley beside the bar, leaning against the wall. He was speaking Finnish, but he still kept himself out of earshot of anyone just in case.</p><p>Mikko sighed, "I don't know why he'd pick him. And I can't ask him why."</p><p>"Why the hell not?!" Patrik exclaimed.</p><p>Mikko sighed again. Patrik had a pretty good idea he'd been sighing since he started texting him. "Do <em>you</em> want to be the one that challenges the person that Mikko fucking Koivu picked to run some pointless <em>Canadian</em> city? Is that the hill you want to die on? Literally."</p><p>When he put it that way, "No."</p><p>"Me either. I have to figure that he knows all about Wheeler's Czech ties, and he picked him anyway. Maybe he picked him <em>because </em>of them, I don't know and I don't care. Just do your job and come home. Keep your eyes and ears open and let me know anything that you think I need to know, but otherwise get it done and get out of there." Mikko sighed for the third time, "And, Pate, <em>please </em>be careful. And keep your pants <em>on</em>."</p><p>Patrik scoffed, "You don't have to worry about that. He's not my type anyway. He's too old."</p><p>"That's never stopped you before." Mikko pointed out.</p><p>"I doubt he'd pay for it. And besides, <em>we </em>don't do that anymore." Patrik reminded him.</p><p>A fourth sigh, "Keep telling yourself that, Pate, please. For my sanity."</p><p>"You have sanity left?" He laughed.</p><p>"<em>Very</em> little. Keep in touch." And Mikko hung up.</p><p>It was Patrik's turn to sigh, as he slid his phone back into his pocket. By the time he made his way back into Blake's office, Sami had come up for air and had moved to sit next to his Canadian rather than on top of, for which Patrik was grateful. He took the seat in front of Blake's desk again. "So... is this Czech thing going to be an issue?"</p><p>Blake shook his head, "No. Do <em>you </em>think it's going to be an issue?"</p><p><em>Yes, </em>quite frankly, but he knew he couldn't say that. "Do you have involvement with drugs?" It's what the Czechs were known for, after all.</p><p>"No." Blake answered a little too quickly for Patrik's comfort.</p><p>"None?" He pressed.</p><p>Blake shook his head, "None. Even when I was with the Czechs, I wasn't involved with that."</p><p>Patrik nodded and believed none of what he'd said, but he could deal with that later. "Any Czechs in the city?"</p><p>Blake stared at him, blinked a few times, and then answered, "Winnipeg has three-quarters of a million people. I don't know them all personally. Some of them might be Czech."</p><p>The silence that followed was so still and so cold that Sami actually got up from the couch and sat in the chair next to him. Patrik wasn't sure exactly what Sami thought he would do, but whatever it was, clearly he was going to stop it before it caused issues. It was about as <em>Sami</em> as Patrik had ever seen him be. "I think Patrik wants to know if you have Czech <em>associates </em>in the city." He kept his tone even, and free from all of the sarcasm that Patrik would have used.</p><p>Blake suppressed a smile, "Oh did he? I appreciate you translating. I don't <em>have </em>Czech associates."</p><p>"Look, this is only going to work if we're honest with each other." Patrik's eyes never left Blake, but he saw Sami sit up a little straighter out of the corner of his eye. "I'm here because my boss wants this city to run smoothly and <em>his </em>boss seems to think that you'll do a good job of that. I need to know that's true, so I can go home where I'm actually <em>useful</em>. So I need you to be honest with me, or at the very least lie more convincingly, so I can give my boss a good report and get the hell out of this place." </p><p>"Alright, alright. You stop asking me questions about the Czechs and I won't lie to you anymore. Deal?" Blake leaned back in his chair, looking far too impressed with himself.</p><p>Before Patrik could say a word, Sami leaned over, whispering in Finnish, "<em>He's not worth it.</em>"</p><p>He had a good point and Patrik hated that he had a good point. "I've passed the Czech situation on to my boss, so I'm done with talking about it. Let's start with what rackets you already have set up, then we'll talk about what you need to do."</p><p>. . . .</p><p>"I'm going to shoot him and send him back to Finland in a box." Blake snapped.</p><p>The door was closed and the only person in his office was draped across his couch. "And then you'll get shot and I really don't want to run this place. So can you not?" Ben barely glanced up from the phone in his hands.</p><p>"That's not a good enough reason not to shoot him." Blake picked up a Nerf ball from his desk and threw it at the opposite wall. Ben had brought him a few of them telling him that they would help his stress level. The first time he threw one, Adam came into the office, gun drawn, thinking it was a gunshot. He nearly shot Ben when he found out what it was, but Blake wouldn't let him take them away. He ordered him to ignore the sound and if it turns out it was a gunshot then he wouldn't be responsible for the aftermath. Adam had grumbled all the way back to his post.</p><p>"How about this for a reason? If you shoot Laine, Sami's going to be the one that has to shoot you. And then I'm going to have to at <em>least </em>dump him if he does and I don't want to do that." Ben flashed him a smirk, "You like me better when I'm--"</p><p>"Don't say it. I give up. I won't shoot him. Yet." Blake tipped his chair as far back as it would go, "It'd be a lot easier if he didn't <em>smirk </em>like that every time I said something."</p><p>Ben tipped his head to the side, "I didn't notice that."</p><p>Blake rolled his eyes, "You don't notice a damn thing that's not that damn boyfriend of yours. Have you <em>worked </em>a single day since he's been here?"</p><p>"We're getting reacquainted, he's not here much." Ben shrugged that off. Blake had made the mistake of naming Ben to be his second, and explaining that his new position means he has enough rank to decide what he wanted to do and when he wanted to do it. He was good at the job, but that also meant that when Sami was in town he forgot all of his business dealings in favor of fawning over the guy. It wasn't that Blake could really blame him, because the rare times that David showed up, Blake forgot everything but him. But David didn't stay for weeks, like evidently Sami was going to.</p><p>Blake turned back to his laptop, trying to focus on dealing with his emails. It seemed like he got hundreds of them a day now that he'd taken over the city boss job. Most of them were just reports from the businesses that paid into what was now his Organization and how much they made on any given day. Blake really hadn't appreciated the amount of places that had gambling dens or prostitution services available in the city, but now that they were all technically his, he had to make sure they were paying up on the regular.</p><p>Patrik had approved of some of rackets that Andrew had left behind but gave him suggestions on what other ones he could start including a series of scams that seemed to do better in North America than they did in Europe. Blake had no idea how the kid knew about these things, but he followed the advice and those that were given the rackets seemed to be very excited about the prospects, and the money coming in couldn't be argued with. Unfortunately Blake had to admit that despite his age, Patrik seemed to know what he was doing. And worse than that, his assistance was actually <em>helpful</em>. Under his suggestions, the amount Blake was taking in nearly doubled, especially around the sex trade, where Patrik seemed to have unlimited expertise, which wouldhave been of no surprise if Blake had believed his boasting when they first met. But he hadn't, so Patrik's easy familiarity with the industry did take some getting used to. </p><p>Blake's biggest problem was that he <em>was </em>getting used to him. As much as he complained, and that was often, he found that he <em>liked </em>the casual confidence that Patrik exuded, he reminded him of David when they were younger, maybe <em>too </em>much of David for his own good. Patrik was twelve years younger than him, Blake tried to remind himself as often as possible, but he didn't carry himself like any twenty-one year old he had ever met. Blake had run cons for years, he could read most people easily, but not him. Not because he wasn't readable, but because Blake knew a persona when he saw one. He didn't blame him for putting up shields, especially doing what he'd been doing as young as he claimed to have been doing it. What bothered Blake is that he wanted to know what was behind them.</p><p>When the door opened, Blake willed himself not to look up. Since Ben was already in the room, the only person that would walk into his office without Adam at least announcing them was Patrik, and Blake didn't want to give him any more attention than he had to. Patrik dropped himself into the chair opposite Blake's desk and stretched his legs out. Blake pretended not to notice that he put his body on display when he sat like that, probably force of habit, but definitely distracting. </p><p>Patrik was silent for a while, waiting for Blake to look up, but eventually he must have gotten tired of the game. "I'm leaving tomorrow," He announced. </p><p>That made Blake's eyes snap up from the laptop, "You are?" </p><p>Patrik smirked, that same annoyingly effective smirk, "You miss me already?" </p><p>Blake scoffed, "You wish. But I guess that means the powers that be think I can run the place myself now?" </p><p>"That's what my boss said. They think you've got the hang of it and I'm needed elsewhere." </p><p>Blake would have made a comment about sounding like the Lone Ranger, but he wasn't sure, between his age and nationality, if Patrik would get the joke. Instead he just nodded. He was probably supposed to thank him for his help, but he didn't want to, he didn't want to say anything that would contribute to his already large ego. But of course, he didn't have to. </p><p>Patrik leaned forward, bracing himself against his side of the desk, "I'm going to let you take me out to dinner tonight, to thank me for all my help, and to say goodbye properly." </p><p>Blake scoffed again, "You're going to <em>let </em>me? How nice of you. I'm busy tonight." </p><p>From the couch where he'd been lounging, Ben piped up, "No, you're not. And you really need to get--" Ben stopped speaking abruptly when the Nerf ball hit his shoulder. </p><p>Patrik laughed, "See? Even your associate thinks you should <em>thank </em>me." </p><p>The come-on was so obvious, Blake couldn't help rolling his eyes. But he also couldn't deny that below his desk, other parts of him were starting to wake up, and Ben wasn't wrong, it had been a long time since he'd gotten laid. And if he was leaving in the morning, he wouldn't see him again, so he wouldn't have to deal with any aftermath. A one night stand with an attractive ex-hooker might be exactly what he needs. But he couldn't make it that easy. He sighed, "Fine, I'll take you to dinner. But only because I'm celebrating getting you out of my hair." </p><p>Patrik smirked, that smirk Blake hated so much, as he stood up, "You can pick me up at the hotel at eight. Dress nicely, I don't want to be seen with a slob." </p><p>It took all the willpower Blake had not to throw one of his Nerf balls at Patrik's back as he walked out of the office. </p><p>. . . . </p><p>"I'll be home tomorrow." Patrik paced his hotel room, the phone pressed against his ear. </p><p>Jesse's voice sounded good, cheerful even, "That's good. I don't think Sami watches your back right." </p><p>Patrik scoffed, "He doesn't watch anything but that boyfriend of his, I've barely seen him since I've been here. But don't go yelling at him, I don't need back up here, there's nothing going on. All I've been doing is helping Wheeler set up his rackets, it's been dull boring work." </p><p>"<em>Good! </em>You need some dull boring stuff after everything that went down in Denmark. My concussion can't take you doing anything exciting." Jesse hadn't said it to make him feel bad, he'd told him over and over that he didn't blame Patrik for anything that happened. He blamed the Danes and swore that he'd get his revenge someday. But all the same, Patrik <em>did </em>feel bad. </p><p>"How is your head?" Patrik asked. </p><p>Jesse shrugged verbally, "Not bad. I think I can be back to work in a couple weeks. Everything else is all healed, no pain when I breathe or anything." </p><p>"Good. After I get home, we'll get on Mikko to send us on an assignment together." Patrik glanced at his watch, "I need to go, I have to get dressed. Wheeler is finally taking me to dinner."</p><p>Jesse laughed, "You took this long to get him to take you out? I figured you would have had him in bed the first night you were there. I saw his picture, he's your type all over." </p><p>"What does that mean? What <em>type?</em>" Patrik couldn't think of anything that Blake had in common with... well, anyone in his past that he hadn't been paid to sleep with, that he <em>wanted</em> to touch him. He didn't want to count Nikolaj in that number, he had taken the money, but he was.</p><p>"You like them intense." Jesse said matter of factly. </p><p>Patrik was silent for a moment. Damm him, he was absolutely right. He was tall and built, but he liked someone that could <em>take </em>him. Size didn't matter, it was some other quality that had him keening and begging. Nikolaj had it, and Jesse was absolutely right when he pointed out that Blake did, too. It was also why he and Jesse could never happen, despite how close they were. Jesse was too <em>nice.</em> He hated when he knew more about him than Patrik knew about himself. Not that Patrik was going to admit it. "I have no idea what you're talking about." </p><p>Jesse laughed, "Of course not. Call me when you get back to the hotel, okay? Doesn't matter what time." </p><p>Patrik promised he would and hung up the phone. By the time Blake was knocking on his hotel room door, Patrik had tried on and discarded almost everything in his suitcase. He had told Blake to dress nicely, which meant he had to look <em>perfect. </em>He didn't know why he wanted to impress him, but he did. And he finally decided on an outfit that he knew would do that. He tended to buy clothes that were cut just a little tight, because, as he told Mikko, you can take the boy of the brothel, but you can't take the brothel out of the boy. He was the only one that really understood, having grown up inside like Patrik had, there almost <em>was </em>no other way to be. Mikko still tried, Patrik didn't bother.</p><p>Blake didn't disappointed with his outfit. Patrik hadn't seen him in anything other than jeans, but he had on a pair of slacks, and a jacket, his hair styled, he might even have trimmed his beard. He looked like he took time to put his outfit together, and Patrik approved of the whole look and told him so. Blake laughed, but Patrik noticed he did not return the compliment. Patrik made a note that it would be the last compliment he'd offer him unless he started getting them much more frequently from Blake. He was many things, and petty was high on that list. </p><p>"Are you planning to take me somewhere nice?" Patrik asked as he brushed by him, pulling the door closed behind him. He felt Blake's hand brush his hip, and was a little disappointed he didn't try to cop a feel. He wasn't used to dealing with the kind of person that would let such a perfect opportunity go by. He couldn't help but think that Nikolaj absolutely wouldn't have, but be made himself put that thought out of his mind, he was never going to see him again, and besides he had someone much more interesting to focus on.</p><p>Blake gestured that Patrik should head down the hallway, "I didn't think I had a choice in that matter. I figured if I took you to some place like Burrito del Rio, you'd shoot me." </p><p>Patrik raised an eyebrow at him, "Did you just call me a snob?" </p><p>Blake laughed, "Yes. I'd repeat it in Finnish, but I haven't mastered the language as well as you have English."</p><p>Patrik scoffed, "I'm really not that difficult to get along with."</p><p>"Of course not, as long as I do things your way." Blake pointed out. </p><p>"My way is the <em>right </em>way," Patrik countered, in what he felt was a very logical reply.</p><p>Blake only laughed, shaking his head, as he lead him down to his car.</p>
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